Beautiful Disaster
by x-free-like-the-wind
Summary: A story about love, death, loss, misunderstanding and of course, the lovely Annie Cresta. My take on what Annie's life was like from Finnick's reaping till after his death. M for future content. Story is better than description! I promise! Annie's POV
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I believe the best way to start this is by saying that I'm _not_ crazy, just misunderstood. My entire life I've been looked at funny, well, not my entire life, but since I was about twelve. If I try really hard I can remember before everything changed, before I grew up, before everything, and everyone, I had slipped away from me. I remember holding my younger brother Jonathan as we walked along the pier of our district with our parents, being protective to the point of near foolishness. I remember my mother braiding my hair with her skilled hands, slowly incorporating sea flowers and shell barrettes. I remember my father, the strong fisherman he was, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulders into the vast crystal blue sea that was practically our backyard. I remember the smile that my grandmother, Maggie, would give every time she sang to me as a child. Mostly, I remember being peaceful and content, living in my family's near shack in our village.

Funny, isn't it? Somebody who is deemed certifiably insane can remember tedious, no longer important, details from her childhood. Well let me tell you this, they're wrong. Snow was wrong, beyond wrong. I'm sure if you know anything about me, all you know is what the Capitol told you. Let me tell you, _nobody _knows me, not anymore at least.


	2. Chapter 1

I wake up out of breath and sweating, the back of my soft cotton night shirt sticking to my back. It was the day of the reaping, an event that took place in every district in the country of Panem, a drawing of two names, one boy and one girl. Those chosen would be taken into custody of the Capitol where they would fight to the death in an unknown arena against 23 other teens, two from each of the twelve districts of Panem, this event is called The Hunger Games. The thing is, I had no reason to be afraid, I had just turned eleven and our names weren't entered into the reaping until our twelfth birthday. In district four, where I live, sometimes this day is seen as a celebration, seeing as we're one of Panem's most consistent winning districts in the Games, it is probable that either our district, district one, or district two will win.

Anyway, back to the nightmare that startled me out of sleep. It took place on Reaping Day, a hot summer's day similar to the one we were seemingly having today. I was standing on the sides, the area where district members whose names aren't in the reaping stand and wait to see the fortunate or unfortunate two teenagers whose names were called… or for some fortunate. In my district, there were more than the occasional "volunteer tributes" but it wasn't an every year thing, it was just a special surprise sometimes. An eighteen year old would volunteer strictly so they could be in the games their last year, and training was an option here. However, in the dream I was waiting for the names to be called, eagerly for some unknown reason. After the speech which informed our district as to why and when the Games started, which of course most of us over ten know by heart, the reaping began. Quickly enough, a big and tall eighteen year old girl volunteered for the thirteen year old who was drawn, and my nerves weren't relieved.

And then, the worst happened, the boy's name was drawn. I tensed up, praying to God that it wasn't somebody, I didn't know who I didn't want it to be, but it was as if I was bound to someone in the crowd. A muffled name was called, a younger boy step forward, I saw a flash of blonde hair and a scream came out of my mouth, I don't even know it was a scream; it was more like a whimper of pain. The boy began to turn around to see who his defender was; I ducked before I could see who he was and before he could see who I was. That's when I woke up.

Who was the boy in the dream? I ask myself as I slide out of bed, opening the shades and letting the rays of sunlight slip in through. I smile at the sea outside my house and slip on a simple green dress to match my eyes and walk out to the water. It was about five in the morning, and I figure no one would be out; I walk to the edge of the water and sat on the sand, watching the sun rise higher and higher, sitting alone, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Unlike most people my age I like being alone and I like the quiet and luckily, it's not particularly hard for me to find it. Because of my keep to myself attitude most think I'm weird. They laugh at me at school; call me crazy, but I promise, I'm not crazy. When I was just seven years old, I saw my younger brother, the middle child Matthew, who was four at the time, drown. I tried to scream for help but nobody was around, he hadn't been able to make it, I saw my baby brother die right in front of me and it didn't leave me the sanest of the district. For a while I had sudden outbursts, crying and screaming and that's when the other students in my school started avoiding me. At first it upset me, but I grew accustomed to it and now, I appreciate the solitude I am given.

After about an hour, I hear a shuffle of feet behind me, assuming that my six year old brother Jonathan followed me out. I turn around to smile and realize that it's not him, but the most attractive boy, by the girls in my school's standards, to ever live; I think his name is Finn or something. I wonder what he's doing up this early and soon realize once again that it's reaping day and he's fourteen, he's eligible. He sits down a few feet away from me and then looks at me, I feel myself beginning to blush and can't control it, I am a shy and demure eleven year old girl, what can I do?

"Your name is Annie, right?" I hear the Finn boy say and am pulled out of my trance. How does he know my name? I smile softly to myself and nod my head.

"Yes, Annie… How do you know who I am?" Curious to know more, as always, I smile softly, knowing that I'm probably beat red.

"Well, your father and my father trade frequently, my father says that your family makes the best nets and fishing poles in the whole district. And your grandmother is a victor, Mags right?" He says politely and I quickly realize that all the girls in my school have no idea who he really is probably. Everybody says that he's arrogant and prides himself in his looks, but I see something different, I see a boy who clearly loves his father, the way he smiles when he quotes him. I see a fourteen year old boy, who knows that he is attractive, but thinks that other things are more important, I don't know what would be important to him, not yet at least. I blush at his compliment considering that my father and I make the nets and poles together, so the most desired boy in the district has complimented me indirectly.

I realize I've spent too much time analyzing this boy that I haven't even spoken. Quickly I pull myself together "Thank you, I will tell my father that you said that, and yes, that's my grandmother, I know her as Grandma Maggie though." I blush softly. "What's your name again?" I smile shyly. He seems taken a back at this, and he smiles softly, it seems as though he's trying to figure out if I was joking about knowing him or being serious. Realizing my seriousness he smiles again and extends his hand to me.

"Finnick…" _that was his name_, I think to myself. "Finnick Odair" I smile softly as he looks at his hand and gives me a little nod.

"Annie," I say softly, filled with nervousness I grab his hand "Annie Cresta" he smiles softly and squeezes my hand softly.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Cresta," he laughs, not letting go of my hand as he looks into my eyes, his sea green eyes meeting my slightly more green eyes, not breaking his gaze I respond softly.

"You as well, Mr. Odair," I laugh softly as he runs his tan, muscular hand through his bronze hair, I blush softly and then it hits me. I pull my hand away quickly. The dark blonde hair, the way it curls a bit in the back, but is perfectly straight in the front, his strong, muscular build, probably from carrying buckets of fish for his father. The way he walks, so sure of himself and so mature, but with the slight ounce of immaturity, this is the boy from my dream. The one who I screamed for, who I pleaded for the Capitol not to take, it wasn't my cousin, or brother, father, it was Finnick. The stunningly handsome fourteen year old who all the girls in my school would swoon over as I kept a safe and quiet distance from because I kept a safe and quiet distance from everyone. A flash of worry crossed over his face as he moves his hand further away from me, a pang of guilt washes over me, I realize I upset him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he rubs the back of his neck and I shake my head, blushing.

"I just am shy, that's all" I say quickly and let out a laugh. I decide to change the topic "So, are you nervous for today?" As the words pour out, I immediately regret asking, I blush. He nods softly.

"Hey Annie," I hear his soft and sweet voice and turn to look directly at him. "Do you think I'd even have a chance of winning the Games if I ever got chosen?" I look down, actually considering the situation and I smile.

"I do think you would have a shot of winning, if you really tried," I smile playfully. "But I hope that you don't get chosen that would be a shame. All the girls here would have nothing to talk about; they would be hopeless without you. There's no one else for them to pine over and wish for." I let out a small laugh as I hear my name being called. "I've got to go," I smile softly. "Good luck today, Finnick" I giggle and begin to walk.

"Hey Ann," I hear him call out. I turn around and smile at him. "You've got beautiful eyes" I blush and run quickly back into my house to get dressed for the reaping. Praying that the boy I just became friends with doesn't get called in the reaping, because well, he's the only person who seemingly doesn't think that I'm weird. I look into the mirror, my hair pinned back and slightly curled, I blush at myself, thinking about my new best friend and walk toward the Justice Building, holding Jonathan's hand tightly.


	3. Chapter 2

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, or any character brought forward in the series although I wish that I did. Also, I know that I am getting views and this is my first story so I would like to know what you think. So please, read and review! Thank you. (: **

My family and I quickly find our place in the crowd, looking around, filled with remorse, at the large pack of teenagers huddled in the middle of the square. As we sit in front of the Justice Building, my eyes survey the crowd once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of Finnick, safe and unharmed. Suddenly, and as if on cue, Finnick's father, Harrison Odair appears next to us. As I look at this man that my father and I have traded with my entire life, I realize just how much his son resembles him. Both Odair men have a strong, muscular, yet lean fisherman's build. Their muscular, tan and glowing, skin blemished with scars caused by years among fishing nets and hooks. Also, they have the same straight, bronze hair with slight curls at the nape of their necks. I smile softly and timidly at him as he greets my father.

"Hello, Xavier," I hear his husky voice as he grasps my father's hand in a shake. My father face breaks out into an animate smile, his sky blue eyes dancing with light. My mother often tells me that in his younger years he was the most handsome boy in the district and if she wasn't a victor's daughter she wouldn't have had a chance, this is very hard to believe, so I laugh every time. I look at my father and study him, his dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that look as if a piece of sky was placed in them. "Hello, Isabel," Harrison smiles as he greets my mother. As I look at my mother, I begin to wonder if she truly believes the only reason she grabbed my father's attention was because of my grandmother. If you were to ask anyone in the district her and my father were a perfect match both physically and personality wise.

My mother must be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. Her dark auburn hair frames her pale and flawless face perfectly and her smile is contagious. Her dark green eyes are the perfect window to her elusive, yet caring soul and nobody can compare. She smiles at Harrison and shakes his hand softly. I think of mine and Finnick's similar encounter and blush softly.

"Hello, Harrison," my father's sweet strong voice says and I'm pulled out of my trance. I look at Harrison who is wearing a grin that does not reach his eyes and I begin to feel his pain, I look down slowly, catch myself and look back up. "How are you doing, on this… terrible day?" He asks, a serious, yet inappropriate question which could get him shot if any of the nearby Peacekeepers heard. The Peacekeepers are a military force in my country ran by the Capitol. They are given the task to maintain order and suppression in all of Panem, and if someone were to threaten their order and suppression, they would suffer vast consequences. Although my father says these things, I hardly doubt that he means them; he knows what would be at stake, my mother… Jonathan… me, and I know he'd never risk his family. My grandmother, his mother-in-law, must've been getting to him. I smile at the thought of my rebellious victor of a grandmother, the only person in my life who will never hold back her thoughts.

"Could be better," I hear Harrison exclaim. I can hear the worry in his voice, what if his son was to be chosen? How would he and his wife, Lucille, get by? Finnick, and their other son Matthew, were their pride and joy, but Finnick was clearly the favorite. "I mean all you can do is pray, right?" he says hopefully and I nod in agreement. "Oh, Annie, I hardly noticed you were there," he says sweetly, talking in the voice he always uses with me. "No surprise though, silent as usual" he jokes and I smile softly.

"Hello, Mr. Odair," I say sweetly as he shakes my hand, I look over and see Finnick's mother, Lucille, and younger brother of a year, Matthew. For as long as I can remember my parents and the Odair parents have talked about me and Matthew, in private of course, but hey, being small and quiet has its benefits. "Hello, Lucille," I offer my hand for a shake which she receives with a smile.

"Hello, Annie," she says with a smile and turns to Matthew. "See Matthew," she remarks. "Annie, here has manners, no be polite." Matthew rolls his eyes playfully, a gesture meant for only me to see, I blush and smile. He was cute, but he was nothing in comparison to Finnick and his personality lacked a bit too.

"Hey, Ann," he smiles softly and shakes my hand.

"Hello, Matt," I respond with a laugh and then suddenly, as if a spell had been cast we all fall quiet. Out walks the mayor of my district, Charles Mead, an average sized, average built man of about forty. He carries in his hands a handkerchief which he is grasping so tightly that I am surprised that it is even still intact. I wonder what the cause of this nervousness could be and then it hits me, his daughter Bridget was eighteen, her name would be in the bowl full of all the girl's in the district's names eight times. Behind him my grandmother, Margaret, more commonly known as Mags Riverden, walks, her back slouched softly and her hand grasping her cane for support.

Despite the public's belief, my grandmother is not weak, on the contraire; she is actually the strongest person I know. Underneath the brittle, aged woman is a fire that burns brighter than anything else, a fire filled with love for her family and hatred for her family. There are few things in this world that my grandmother hates, and one of them is the Capitol. Whether it is because she watched her best male friend from childhood die before her eyes in the arena or because the Capitol treated her unfairly, my grandmother hates them and everything about them. Throughout the Capitol she is called illiterate because she always mumbles and slurs her words together, however, no one takes the time to notice that she's extremely smart and well spoken, all that is just an act. She just doesn't want the capitol to know what she is talking about. I smile as she takes her seat in her rightful place on the stage and gives out a soft sigh. Next to enter would usually be a male victor, however, as of last year; Pierce Byron is no longer with us.

Finally, and sure enough to make an award winning entrance is our Capitol representative the lovely Eleanor Silver. As she enters it is no surprise what she is wearing, a silver pencil skirt, silver blazer and a black shirt underneath that. I watch her and smile at the fact that nothing has changed about her appearance whatsoever. Her eyes covered with this shimmering silver eye shadow, the same shade she's worn since before I was born, as I'm told, along with the glimmering silver lipstick on top of her small and always pursed lips. I laugh to myself as I notice she has made, yet another change to her appearance, her hair which was usually a pale white color is now stunning, sparkling silver that radiates light as if it were the sun. She smiles her smile, the most fake smile I've ever seen and begins.

"Well, well, well, hello district four and how have you been since our last meeting? Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever _in your favor." After she goes over the history of the Hunger Games, she gets started. "Now, it's time for our tributes to be chosen, oh how exciting, and as per tradition, ladies first!" She smiles softly as her hand reaches into the glass bowl filled with the girls' names. I look over and see Mayor Mead grip his handkerchief even tighter than before, I pray for him that it isn't his daughter. "Our female tribute from district four is Lea Dickinson." My jaw drops for a second, I knew her, and she was just a year older than me we went to school together. I look up into the crowd and see her emerge, her pale blonde hair waving behind her, the look of fear tattooed on her face. Once she's on stage, the real fun begins. "Do we have any volunteers this year?" Eleanor asks, smiling softly and then suddenly.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I whip my head around and sigh softly, I know this girl. Her name is Madison Wood, she's sixteen years old and has always thought herself better than everyone else, or at least that's what my mother tells me. As she walks forward, I sigh, gawking at her beauty. She is five foot seven inches and has long, flowing dirty blonde hair with chocolate brown eyes, I look down. How is it that people like Finnick Odair call aspects of me, a scrawny good for nothing girl, beautiful when there are people like her in this district? I look up as she reaches the stage and gives an arrogant smile.

"And what is your name, miss?" Eleanor questions.

"Madison… Madison Wood, sixteen years old," she smiles and there is a cheer from the crowd.

"And now… the moment has come to choose the male tribute," Eleanor reaches her painted hand into the glass bowl and grabs the first name her fingers come across. I cross my fingers and think _Please, not Finnick, anyone but Finnick. _"The male tribute from district four is," she opens the slip "Finnick Odair." For a second my world stops, my jaw drops and I look over at Harrison, Lucille and Matthew who look as if the wind has been blown out of them. Finnick walks to the stage, bravely, looking as if nothing has affected him. "Are there any volunteers?" I pray again, _please, someone volunteer, please…please._ Fifteen seconds, to be exact, pass and no one stands up for him. No one stands up for the fourteen year old boy who has hardly had a chance to live. The boy every girl in the district would kill to be with, possibly gone forever.


End file.
